


More

by RadiatorfromSpace



Series: Itty-Bitty Loki & A Whole Lot of Thor [3]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Adult King!Thor, Age Difference, Alternate Asgard AU, And something like but not quite, Breeding, Come Inflation, Come-Stuffing, Cum-Stuffing, Frottage, Impregnation, Impregnation Kink, Loki's Seidr-Cunt has some extra abilities, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Kink, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pussyjob, Seidr, Size Difference, Sumata, Superfetation, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Pregnancy Kink, Thor has a Smallness Size Kink and Loki is Le Tiny, Vaginal, Virginity Loss, size difference kink, teenage!loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6569704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiatorfromSpace/pseuds/RadiatorfromSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Thor was a nice man—kind, gracious, strong, and handsome; Loki hadn't a clue why he'd been unable to secure a political marriage from any of the royal families of the Nine, or why he now chose to court the son of wealthy, middle-class cloth merchants.</p><p>Then the king's big hands wrapped around Loki's little hips—while the rest of the court was only a curtain away—and asked if Loki was sure they could bear the strain of his heirs, for Thor was going to give him twenty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More

**Author's Note:**

> Sumata, apparently a Japanese term for the non-penetrative sex act of rubbing the cock against the (ideally wet and closely shaven/waxed) pussy. Also known as a pussyjob, it combines well w/ intercrural sex. YAY LEARNING! :D 
> 
> Thanks to [Rocket](http://plethora-of-ferrets.tumblr.com/) and [Thorctopus](http://thorctopus.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading!
> 
> It has come to my attention that some people ([Rocket](http://plethora-of-ferrets.tumblr.com)) think these one shots are related stories even though the series page indicates that they are unrelated shorts on topics w/ high overlap. So: They're not related stories, they just share themes. 
> 
> Rocket, you are an adorable, silly nugget. <3 :*

At the time, Loki had a vague awareness that King Thor's attempts to secure a good marriage were long and convoluted, but he had no notion of why.

The diplomat came to the threshold of the house on a balmy afternoon; he wanted to interview Loki, claiming he was following up on a lead for an eligible young man who was comely and clever, and of good breeding.

He hadn't mentioned the other prized criterion for which Loki had been selected: that he was a prodigy in seidr. But whenever someone of import indicated an interest in Loki, Loki immediately assumed any potential sincerity was irrevocably entwined with the mages' predictions he would be a full seidrmadr before he was thirty.

When the diplomat said “good breeding” like a rich pun, Loki thought he saw this for what it was; a king needed heirs, but the cock and balls between Loki's legs were not a problem for someone with his abilities.

Loki set aside his accounting books for Laufey and put down his weaving and needles for Farbauti, his parents settled into their chaises at the back of the little study to supervise, and Loki investigated Asgard's King while His Royal Representative investigated him.

The question hovering of why the King of Asgard had turned away from his royal peers to seek a mate from the bourgeoisie remained politely unasked, and gratefully unanswered.

The first clue should have been the lengthy courtship Loki's parents demanded—his capitalistic, opportunity-seeking parents, _delaying_ an alliance with the single most powerful man in the kingdom! Loki was flummoxed; neither Laufey nor Farbauti found worrying reports of the King's character, but still they insisted. 

And Thor, being a gracious king, honored this: Loki enjoyed a luxurious eight months living at court and being wooed by the king—all on the crown's tab.

The second clue was that, on the day of their wedding, Loki was already four months pregnant.

~

That first month at the palace cemented a strong impression of the king: handsome, kind, gracious, pleasant, strong, wise, generous—and everything else an ideal king should be.

But he was also _huge._

To a rare few, the gods saw fit to dole out the graces of shoulders broad enough to fill doorways, a stature two heads higher than the tallest nobles in their heels, and a body great and imposing from thick bone and bullish muscle. But Thor's daunting size was not solely the uncomplicated fact of his dominating proportions; the sheer vitality of his presence—his character, his soul— _projected_ outwards into the space around him. One could not draw near him without sensing one was already touching or, in Loki's case, being submerged in an electrified field.

No one occupied space like King Thor, and the man knew it. He liked it. 

King Thor smiled at him like he was the first rose of May and gifts were delivered daily to Loki's apartments at the palace, but Loki believed Thor's largeness was something he could never get over, even if he one day reached a similar height to the king.

It was thrilling to the point of dizziness when just their gazes locked across the room; Loki was no virgin but Thor was made of just the stuff that made him absolutely giddy. During the first few weeks after he moved into the palace, Loki had managed through polite conversations with the great bear of a man in his costly, embroidered silks.

Loki was pressingly aware that this man was more beast than most; it was something in his massive hands, the way they draped and grasped whatever they touched, openly hungry and _uncivilized_ despite the correctness of his manners that first month.

After that, Loki grew more comfortable; then the king shed a little of his courtly exterior and the predatory circling began, followed by some spontaneous chases through chambers and grounds. By the third month, the gloves had been taken off and decorum burned; King Thor grinned wolfishly at him no matter who was watching, and no alcove, passage, or room was safe to Loki at any hour.

_Thrilling._

The first time the king truly got his paws on him, Loki might have fainted. Thrice.

~

It truly wasn't just Thor: after three electrified days of particularly charged cat-and-mouse around the entirety of Thor's palace, they both gave in with equal relish; Loki let the king _have_ him this time, the wet slit he'd made for Thor with his seidr.

Thor chased him into the library and bent him over against a bookcase in the apartments of a noble whom they'd indiscreetly thrown out. His breath was hot on the growing swathe of Loki's bare shoulders as he fumbled Loki's clothing off. Loki's fingers were white-knuckled on the shelves he grasped and Thor was snarling over him, his tan, groping hands looking bigger than should be possible on his young body. Loki remembered the first time Thor had fondled him, his thumbs grazing over his trail of hair, then cupping his cock while Loki marveled at how a single hand could obscure so much skin. Then Loki marveled aloud, an eloquent _“Hnnngh,”_ as two, thick fingers ran over his slit; the persuasive, guttural sound Thor had made when he found those lips hairless— 

Their breeches were already down around their ankles and Thor's fleshy cock, radiating heat, was sliding eagerly against his slick lips. Loki pumped his hips quickly over the length of his cock, yowling when Thor found the best possible spot on his neck to suck until it was red like a wound, reflected in the miniature mirror on the shelf. This height of lust was unknown to Loki; he was suddenly an animal, compelled to both grind back upon that cock and buck into his hand for a pleasure that seemed more important than his own life. He was insufferably empty between his legs and he could not have known it and yet he did know: it would feel infinitely better if he let that bulbous, weeping head stretch his virgin ring and shove inside.

But it wasn't yet; he couldn't let it, not until marriage—

“Darling, I will go mad,” the king moaned into his ear. “But I will perish, if I trespass here without your permission. I'll give you gold, land, a title—” Thor's hand found his cock and stroked it dutifully in time with his thrusts—a good king in all senses: Loki hadn't even asked.

Thor pressed his cock firmly against Loki's lips by cupping it; he ground against all the soft, tingling, swollen flesh welcoming him and hungry for more. Loki's hand joined Thor's and together they guided that cock at the perfect angle and pressure and speed until Loki could not catch his breath.

“Will you let me? I promise y—”

Loki tilted his hips up while Thor pulled back, then pushed down as the head came forward again; he caught it on the rim and bore down upon it, breaking his own seal with a blink of pain that was promptly submerged in the dizzying bliss of the rest of that great, fat cock roughly shoved in to the balls. Loki wailed, Thor shouted, and Loki's stomach flipped: his channel had opened hopefully to welcome the possible intrusion, but this was not enough; the muscle of the fleshy passage _stretched_ everywhere to accommodate Thor's sheer girth, and the sensation was instantly among Loki's favorites.

Thor's gracious 'gentle phase' lasted two seconds; then he was bucking, his cock barreling into Loki's cunt in what Loki recognized as desperation. He was sore but it was too good to stop and there seemed to be no pauses between each moan and wail Thor got from Loki. The power behind those thrusts shook Loki from his ass to the tip of his cock, reverberations that fed his pussy pleasure between each thrust and stroke. No, it _was_ too much: Loki could not see or think and he only realized his knees had given out when he noticed Thor was holding him up for his bullish mating. Thor seemed to have no qualms about it, steadily looming further over him as he pounded in, and rained down lewd praises on Loki's cunt and young, fertile body he would fill with so many fine, strong heirs. Loki did not know why, but it made him crave the same thing.

Loki's seidr-made cunt was not like a natural one: he could _feel_ the drops of Thor's spill flowing in and splashing with each rough ram of Thor's hips, and the sheer amount already— _thrilling_ , more without end. He felt a delicious tickle inside whenever some of it passed through his channel, and then the muscle clenching, almost sucking for more. 

Loki's balls were drawing up and his belly was coiling tight; it was both insufferable and too good to stop, and he began to scream and clench and spill.

With a murmur of heady recognition, Thor's thrusts sped to a frantic pace.

“Will you keep it?” Thor rasped against his neck as he pounded into him. “I will marry you if you keep it—if you keep every one I give you.”

Thor had known; Loki controlled these seidr-made parts, including whether or not any seed sown in them would take root; Loki could end anything growing in there at any time by simply unraveling that magic.

Loki would have thought more about it had his mind not been a haze of lust.

“I promise you; we will wed if you—darling, I'm so—”

 _“Yes!”_ Loki shrieked, and again many times after. The king groaned in ecstasy and locked his strong hands around Loki's hips and latched his mouth onto Loki's neck; there was nowhere Loki could go, not an inch he could retreat from—

And then he learned Thor was a geyser.

He felt all the vigorous pumping as Thor gave him his seed, then he felt it all slide through like a dizzying tickle between his legs, and then the satisfaction of it pooling in his womb; one spending, and yet so much. 

They did not leave those apartments until the next afternoon.

They fucked, and fucked, and whenever they weren't, Loki rested on his back with his knees drawn up to his ears and his hips tilted towards the ceiling as he concentrated his magic on making his womb of seidr receptive to seed. It was thrilling, the way Thor watched him then, and on top of that the risk—it was a little frightening to Loki who had so recently been a virgin in that way, and what if Thor broke his promise?

Thor, meanwhile, devotedly caught every drop of seed that dribbled out from Loki's lips and deposited them where they belonged. Sometimes Thor plugged his cunt with his cock; other times he used a bulbous plug made from burnished horn. Thor proved to be a geyser on every subsequent round, too, and all that stoppered seed had nowhere to go; when they finally emerged the next afternoon, Thor was even more devoted, because Loki's belly looked as if Thor had gotten between his legs months before, and Loki had told Thor he was certain.

He'd imagined Thor would give him space for a few days after that, but no; he asked Loki to keep the plug in, and it seemed every time Thor caught so much as a glimpse of Loki around the court—even from across the room while Thor was on his way to do something very important—soon after, Thor would find his way to Loki's side and, well.

Loki remained looking very pregnant, until the doctors told Thor to stop. 

~

The kindly, gracious side of Thor did not disappear when Loki accepted his seed and his suit; after they wed, he wore Loki's ring on his hand while Loki wore Thor's—a gesture of goodwill and respect, and there seemed to be _no end_ of them with Thor...

Loki wondered at that. He was young and inexperienced, but not stupid.

At first, there was no obvious ulterior motive he could see. His understanding came later: bribery and guilt.

While Thor was happy to mentor Loki and welcoming of Loki taking on a steadily growing amount of governmental responsibility, Thor did not need a co-ruler but rather the inviolable seal of legitimacy on what was inherently illegitimate and depraved.

Thor could manage a kingdom but not his appetite: he wanted a broodmare, and after he'd indulged the first time with Loki, he could not seem to help himself.

The procreative capacities of a woman were finite, requiring at least a year between each pregnancy for her to maintain her health given the state of the healers' abilities in those days, but Loki's seidr knew no such limitations. King Thor could keep him _perpetually_ full with children, even command him to conceive multiples at a time.

King Thor had traded him a throne, for his womb and constant indulgence.

The months between the doctors' unanimous order, and when Loki began to show naturally, were hel for Thor. 

Although in truth, Loki is not certain it ever stopped being torture for his husband. Thor delights in filling him with seed and babe—and his obedience to the doctors' orders is lately beginning to crumble again—but the craving rules him; the satisfaction afterward does not last as long as it should, and then he begins slavering at the mouth for Loki again.

Loki suspects Thor wishes he was a mouse, or some other creature that could carry five or six babes at a time and be knocked up all over again a mere month later. Loki once “casually” mentioned the thought of sorting out how to tweak the seidr to speed up the first trimester so Thor could have the pleasure of seeing him full with his child sooner, and Thor's unhesitating reply was to offer him two warships (or four trading galleys, per his preference).

So, three months into marriage and Loki has found one type of leverage.

Now Loki sits before the high mirrors of the toilette in their chamber with his robes draped over the back of the chair, looking and feeling: looking at the belly now rounded full with Thor's heir rather than seed, and feeling the now constant sensation of being, well, stuffed. 

He cannot get over the size of even Thor's unborn child. If he is only carrying one, his belly is bigger and heavier than it should be by this month, or maybe it just looks so on his young body, but the doctors are unable to say and Loki does not know enough seidr to divine the answer himself. 

It's always in his way; he is ever aware of how it seems to be weighing on his insides; it makes too many movements awkward and difficult; his increasingly loose clothes perpetually feel too small; and it just never ceases to feel as though he has a rather large melon inside him. And his husband intends to keep him this way forever.

Yet the sight fascinates him and he turns this way and that before the mirrors; how slender his young body supporting this, an already overlarge pregnancy, and only the first of what now seems like an infinite number. A common-born king whose true occupation is to fill cribs at the pace of the king's lusts. He is his husband's prized whore.

By the end of this one, it will feel like two melons. Most vexing of all is that Loki likes it; these constant sensations and hindrances have him sopping wet most of the time. He sometimes orgasms after just a few minutes of Thor's touch. Occasionally, when he lets himself think about it too much, he orgasms untouched. It's a temptation and a trial whenever the work he is learning bores him, and he has ordered a large quantity of absorbent cloth towels just for his individual use.

Thor has no complaints. 

But today is a lazy day and untimely climaxes are therefore impossible. Still, he sits on cloths three layers thick and, his wetness endlessly replenished even as it is absorbed, he cannot resist grinding himself down against them as he wraps a hand around his cock. His slick is so thick it's more like a pillow-y gel that glides almost too smoothly over anything, so he cannot even feel the texture of the cloth.

He watches the door in the mirror's reflection, wishing Thor were—oh, here he is.

Thor closes the door behind him, and even in the dim light, his eyes are already locked onto Loki. He seems to recognize exactly what Loki is doing and strides over to stand right behind the chair but his hands are already creeping down Loki's shoulders. His reflection fills all the space of the mirrors that Loki's does not.

Thor pulls the fabric tighter around his belly, outlining it in the mirror. He gropes him with a pleased growl and has Loki rise so Thor can take and become his seat. He pulls his throbbing cock out of his breeches and pulls Loki insistently down onto his lap—neither of them ask anymore, for they have long since established a mutual, perpetual, animal welcoming of this—Thor helps Loki squirm into alignment, until his dripping hole catches the head, and then Thor fucks in. 

Fuck, they don't even have to try for it to feel good; Loki releases a guttural sound of relief while Thor groans into his neck. He begins biting and sucking there, his arms cinching tight around his smaller body, bracketing his belly while they both watch cunt swallow cock in the mirror.

“Loki,” he groans against his neck. “Let me give you another...”

“H- _ah!”_ is Loki's cogent answer; it's pounding right on one of his sweetest spots. “A—few, months? _Fuh—”_

After a barrage of thrusts and spilling some flowery words about what Loki does to him, Thor retrieves his train of thought.

“No, **now** : little seidrmadr, give me another womb to fill. It's time to start on...our second heir...”

He feels a flutter inside; doubtless, Thor will stuff it like he did the last one, until Loki looks months past due before the second is even conceived.

If it renders him even more sensitive and horny than he is now, Thor will need only look at him to make him come. Rationalizing aside, Thor's cravings have infected Loki a little, too.

So he envisions the runes in his mind's eye, and casts them.

**Author's Note:**

> Same handle on [Tumblr.](http://radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A70850KZ) if you want to support all the time and effort I put into writing. :)


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